by Mat Ridley
Of course I remembered; the Bible had been drummed into my head so firmly during my early years that it was as indelible as a cattle brand, and just as welcome. As much as I hated the words, it was impossible not to hear them: ‘So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.’ But even as I recalled the words, something didn’t quite add up.
“I understand why you are confused, Daniel. Yes, the Bible speaks about the believers being resurrected and given new bodies, but as we both know, you are not a believer. I know you have your doubts to wrestle with. That is why you are here. But if you are not one of the faithful, then why have you been resurrected in such a body?
“Let me try to explain. The Bible as you know it is an interesting book. Many people maintain that it is the literal word of God, the infallible truth, the key to eternal life. That was certainly the intention of God and those first few authors that spread His word. However, as with many noble endeavours, the problem of corruption arose as more people got involved. Some of the corruption was unintentional: a scribe’s mind would wander when copying a particular passage and words would get left out, or a poorly educated scholar would pick the wrong word when trying to translate scripture into another language. Other kinds of corruption were deliberate: politically motivated alterations made in the interests of uniting certain groups of people, or turning them against one another. Over the thousands of years that have passed since the original texts were written, so many changes have been introduced that it is impossible for any mortal to know which parts of the Bible are God’s truth and which parts are man’s fiction.
“The situation that you find yourself in now is a prime example of this. The truth about what happens when you die is in the Bible, but it has been muddied by its passage through the ages. Yes, the dead are resurrected in new bodies after they die, but that has nothing to do with the strength of their faith; even the most fervent of atheists is resurrected so. Instead, the new bodies are given to equip the dead for the trials ahead, tools to be used in their passage through the next phase of the afterlife, as they continue onwards to their final, eternal destination. That’s the kind of body you have been given, Daniel. Come, take a look for yourself.”
The man reached up to his hood, and for the first time I noticed his hands, the only part of his body not covered by his robe. They glittered and shone in the light, and at first I thought he was wearing gauntlets of some kind; but on closer inspection I could see that his hands actually appeared to be made entirely of metal. Tiny protrusions, pistons and cogs all interlocked together, and as he gripped the edge of his hood, the machinery sprang to life to move his fingers.
The instant he pulled back the hood, our surroundings were bathed in an intense white light, and I instinctively raised my hands to cover my eyes. Mercifully, the flare was brief, and after a few moments I was able to lower my hands again—and in doing so, was relieved to notice that they were still flesh, not metal. Gradually, I blinked away the afterimages from the burst of light. Now that his hood had been removed, I could see that although my guide did have a head, it, too, was metallic, and as smooth and featureless as an egg. Its reflective surface was so perfect that I felt an urge to reach out and touch it to see if it was solid or liquid. But the sight of it also prompted an unsettling thought in my mind, and despite the reassuring appearance of my hands, I quickly reached up to my own head, fearful that I might find that placid smoothness there, too.
“Do not fear, Daniel. When I said ‘take a look for yourself,’ I meant only that you should use the mirrored surface of my face to look at your own, not that your appearance would be like mine. Come closer and look, reassure yourself. See, you are still you.”
Despite the distortion of my image produced by the curvature of his head, I could see that he wasn’t lying. And not only was the face still my own, but it was whole again, too, all traces of scar tissue gone. Once more, I reached up to the face, my face, this time in wonder instead of fear, testing my cheek with my fingertips, examining it closely in the reflection. A surreal feeling washed across me as I looked at a face I hadn’t known since Jo had come into my life for the second time and changed it for the better. It was the face of someone who was almost a complete stranger to me, and yet who now I had become once again; a person whole in one sense, but now incomplete without Jo. I was so lost in amazement that when the man next spoke, close to my ear, I jumped. The fact that he had no obvious mouth with which to speak didn’t help.
“In many ways, your new body is just as human as your old one. It is still a vessel for the soul, with two arms, two legs, a head, muscles, sinew, bone. But there are differences, too, the better to help you focus on the tasks at hand. You will never experience illness, or hunger, or thirst, for example. You will never need to sleep. In a sense, your body is just as mechanical as my own; the differences in construction simply reflect our differing roles in this place.”
I found I could speak again. “I don’t mean this to sound rude, but… who or what are you, exactly?”
“I have been given many names over the centuries, and have existed in many forms. By the Egyptians, I was depicted as a two-headed snake called Nehebkau. The Greeks knew me as Cerberus. But the name you are probably most familiar with is Saint Peter.”
I tried to keep up. “So… does that mean we’re in Heaven?”
“No, Daniel. I am the metaphorical custodian of the gates of Heaven, true enough, but you are wrong if you think that those gates are physical or even that they are close at hand. It all comes back to the original meaning of scripture again; one of the passages that has survived relatively unscathed is in the book of John, where Jesus said, ‘no-one comes to the Father except through me.’ He is the gate. When you are ready to move on from this place, He will be the one to transfer you into Heaven; unless, of course, you are condemned to spend eternity in Hell instead. As to where you are now, the closest analogy would be what the Catholic Church calls Purgatory.”
He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, and I was grateful for a chance, however brief, to return to the surface for a gulp of air. This was incredible, impossible, terrifying.
“Do not be afraid, Daniel. Many of the feelings that name evokes in you are unnecessary. You are not here to be punished, at least not by anyone other than yourself. The nature of this place is different than you have been led to believe. The earthly perception of Purgatory has been coloured too strongly by certain elements of the Church, who have chosen—for their own reasons—to present it in a particularly negative sense. Throughout history, fear of time spent here has been a powerful tool in forcing the masses to obey.” Saint Peter shook his head. “You have no doubt heard the Church referred to as the bride of Christ, but I’m afraid she has, at times, not been a particularly faithful wife.
“But I am sure I do not need to convince you of the shortcomings of the Church, do I, Daniel? I know your thoughts on the matter. Yet you must learn to separate your feelings towards God from your feelings towards the Church and its agents. It is quite possible to love one and not the other, although people do not always get it the right way round. Despite the revulsion you feel when I say this, Daniel, you should know that God is a loving God and wants to give all of His creations a fair chance of having a full and loving relationship with Him in eternity. Some mortals understand this more quickly than others; your wife, for example, was able to pass rapidly on from this place and into Heaven because of the nature of her faith. Other mortals, such as atheists, take longer, but are given a fresh chance to re-evaluate their stance towards the Almighty in the face of the new evidence they are presented with on arrival here. Of course, this treatment strikes some of those who have lived their lives faithfully as desperately unfair, that the unfaithful should receive the same reward as they do, and so sometimes they, too, need some time in Purgatory to come to terms with this tru
th, even though there is Biblical precedent. So it goes for each individual who passes this way.
“You know the particular obstacles that stand between you and Heaven, Daniel. You have had a tough life, certainly, but you have chosen to hate God and what you feel He has done to you, rather than accept His will and seek His love. If you continue to hold to that creed, then I’m afraid that all the future holds for you is an eternity in Hell. And perhaps that’s a serious enough proposition to help elevate you above your earthly prejudices.” Saint Peter sighed heavily. “But if the proposition alone is not serious enough, you’ll soon have a chance to see first-hand exactly what horrors Hell might have in store for you. You see, unfortunately, it’s not simply a case of letting you sit quietly in a corner somewhere, contemplating your life and your spirituality until you have worked things out. That is only one aspect of life in Purgatory. No, you must also use this new body of yours in the service of the Lord. On the field of battle.”
“What do you mean, ‘field of battle’?” I had already developed a sinking feeling as Saint Peter had been talking—the revelation that I would be effectively forced into loving the God I had grown to dislike so intently did not exactly fill me with a deep joy—but this sudden mention of a battlefield hit me like a torpedo.
“The field of battle where the war between the Heavenly Host and the Army of Satan has been raging ever since Lucifer was first cast down. That war takes place here, Daniel, immediately outside the walls of New Jerusalem—the city where the Temple of Rebirth is situated. And this war is not nearly as symbolic or romantic as earthly artists have portrayed it. Satan has been a thorn in God’s side ever since he was thrown out of Heaven, and he never tires of working to maintain the separation that exists between God and man. God would dearly love to see an end to Satan’s influence, of course, but His mercy is so great that He cannot bring Himself to kill even His greatest enemy. It’s never too late to turn back to God and repent, Daniel, and He still hopes that one day even Satan will see the error of his ways. In the meantime, God maintains a careful balance between giving Satan enough space in which to exercise the free will that all of His creations have been given, and keeping him penned up in Hell to protect the rest of existence from the havoc that he would wreak if he were completely free.
“For his part, Satan tries his best to expand upon the limited dominion he has been granted and fulfil his dream of capturing New Jerusalem. He knows that the city here represents the crossroads between Purgatory, Hell, Heaven and Earth, and that if he could capture it, his legions would have free access to all of existence. If Purgatory were to be overrun, the souls of the recently departed, no matter how pure, would be fed directly into Hell—with no chance of redemption—and the demons would spill over into Earth. The angels would be too preoccupied with the defence of Heaven to intervene. Death and despair would sweep the globe, but only until it had been completely consumed by Satan’s rage. All that would remain would literally be Hell on Earth.
“No-one knows at what stage, if at all, God would intervene if such a catastrophe were to occur. The inhabitants of Purgatory know only that they have been given a divine remit to prevent it from happening—and so far we have been successful. As I’m sure you can imagine, Daniel, it is by no means an easy task; but then the struggle is almost as important as the result itself. You’ve been a soldier before, so you know the truth in the old adage that war brings out the best and the worst in a person. And what better war could there be for you to get to know your real self?”
“That’s all very well, but what if I don’t want to fight? If I understand you correctly, I’m being asked, or rather obliged, to join God’s little army here and help to keep Him safe and cosy upstairs. With all due respect, why the hell should I? What if I just sit on a pew here and do nothing? It’s His mess, let Him clear it up. It’s not as if I owe Him a debt of service or anything for the great way He’s treated me over the years.”
“Be my guest, Daniel, and have a seat. That’s your prerogative. But after, say, a few decades, you’ll come to realise that Purgatory is not a very nice place to spend eternity, and I’m afraid the only way you are going to get out of here is to fight. It’s not like God needs your help against Satan anyway, Daniel. He could just click His fingers and be done with the whole lot if that’s what He wanted. No, by sending you into battle, God is offering you the means to work out your salvation. In the same way that your mind and your soul will be tested as you reflect upon your past, so too will your new body be tested on the battlefield here in Purgatory… if you choose to participate. But know this: neither stream of redemption is independent of the other. You must determine your fate as a whole person.”
“But I’m not a whole person anymore, not without Jo. How am I meant to focus on all these things you keep talking about without her, without even knowing how she is? You can’t honestly tell me that you just expect me to forget about her!”
“No, not at all. On the contrary, her example is probably your best hope of salvation.”
“So why won’t you let me see her or speak to her? Just for a moment, just so I know that she’s okay? You’re asking for the impossible. You keep telling me not to worry about her, but how can I stop? Just before I woke up here, she was shot by a gun-wielding psychopath, for crying out loud! I can’t just shrug something like that off. People need time to come to terms with that sort of shit.”
“Time is something you have plenty of, Daniel. And you’ll be surprised how quickly your own plight focuses your mind. As much as it might pain you to hear me say this, you’ll soon find it quite easy to see Joanna’s passing in the greater context of the afterlife. Don’t think of her as you last saw her, in danger, about to be killed. She has transcended all that, and is with the Almighty even as we speak.”
“Lucky her. I mean, it must be great to be hanging out with the God she devoted her life to, even though this is the same guy who just orchestrated her death at the hands of a cold-blooded lunatic. I can see why I really ought to be grateful to such a benevolent creator, too, especially after the day I’ve just had. Jesus, He never gives it a rest, does He? It’s not as if He hasn’t killed enough people I cared about over the years, but now He has to go and kill Jo as well. ‘Oh, but don’t worry about her, Dan, she’s not important anymore, even though she’s just been murdered right in front of your eyes. All you have to do is just concentrate on growing to love me, or I’ll send you to Hell for all eternity. No pressure. By the way, there’s an army of demons you have to fight against whilst you’re coming to terms with all this, too, hope that’s okay.’ Loving God, my arse. And what about our baby? Is he or she supposed to fight in your little war, too? Contemplate all the evil things it did, all the chances it passed by in life? I mean, if God knew He was going to kill Jo anyway, why even bother creating a life inside her in the first place? What was the fucking point?”
Saint Peter’s temperament remained as placid as the surface of his face. “I understand your anger, Daniel. Everyone has to go through some kind of readjustment when they come here, and it’s not easy trying to make sense of it all. I can only reiterate what I have been saying all along: you do not need to worry about your family, neither your wife nor your child. Worry first about your spiritual circumstances and everything else will fall into place. Eternity lies ahead, Daniel. You should give careful consideration to where you wish to spend it.”
His words did little to soothe me. I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out, the enforced silence once again gripping my voice. My anger stirred even more vigorously at this injustice, but I was powerless to do anything about it.
“Try to be calm, Daniel. Righteous anger has its place—as you know, God Himself would often unleash His anger on the world, before the blood of the lamb washed away mankind’s sins—but your anger is not righteous. Your problem is that you have been angry at God for so long that it has turned to hate. I understand your desire to lay the blame for what has happened at God’s fee
t, to condemn Him for His apparent silence in the face of all your adversity, but the operative word there is ‘apparent’. Perhaps you have been so engaged in shouting at God that you have not paused for long enough to listen if there is any reply. As I said at the start of our conversation, silence is the beginning of all wisdom.”
The echoes of Saint Peter’s words lingered in the air. I should have been given days to absorb any one of his revelations individually, a chance to digest the implications of each radical paradigm shift as it was delivered; to be given them in rapid succession, one after the other, was almost literally mind-blowing. You would think that with eternity stretching out ahead of me, whoever ran this place could have broken me in a bit more gently. But then, considering who that person was, I guess I wasn’t too surprised.
A million questions burned in my mind. With a huge effort of will, I did my best to still my thoughts, and tried to analyse my situation logically. According to Saint Peter, I would have plenty of time to do so. He stood there, patiently waiting, almost as if his batteries had run down. Did he run on batteries? Make that a million and one questions. I shook my head free of the cobwebs and tried to think.
Thanks to Sam and his relentless trail of destruction, I and everyone I cared for had been killed—that much was undeniable. But if what Saint Peter was saying was true—and the fact that I was standing there in a cathedral after having been killed suggested that it was, that there was definitely some kind of life after death—then those who had died were not necessarily lost to me permanently. To get to them, though, I would first need to do whatever it took to put a smile on God’s face, and from the sounds of it, one aspect of that was going to involve participating in His poxy little war. The idea of having to do so went against my every instinct, but if that was what was needed to get back together with Jo, then I would do it. I had been in enough other battles before where I would rather have been somewhere else. The alternative was, as Saint Peter had said, to sit there refusing to play the game, and that wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I certainly couldn’t go back to where I had come from, and even if I could, there was nothing there for me anymore anyway. Better to make a go of the situation I found myself in now, where there was at least some kind of hope, than to give up.
